


Trinity

by GentlyMad



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Multi, Priests, Threesome - M/M/M, Wincestiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentlyMad/pseuds/GentlyMad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A church has been hit with some deviant mojo. Sounds like a job for the Winchesters and their angel. Surely the mojo won't affect them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trinity

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfic and first porn fic all in one. Be gentle with me.

“Sammy, I gotta tell ya, I still don’t get why a bunch of holy rollers getting their rocks off is such a priority case for us," Dean said, tugging at the cleric's collar that seemed intent on strangling him. "I mean we're not talking old men and altar boys here. Are we?"

"What? No!" Sam snapped. "And we're here because Deacon Callahan said he was a friend of Bobby’s. Last week members of his parish began engaging in erratic and deviant activity. He called us for help because he didn't know where else to turn, Dean. That's enough for me. It should be enough for you too."

The familiar whooshing of wings sounded between the brothers and suddenly Dean was face to face with Castiel. He swallowed hard as he took in his angel from head to toe. Gone was the ever present trench coat, replaced instead with the black robe of a bishop, complete with shoulder cape, red buttons and sash, and fuck, why the hell was that so hot?

"Nice, uh, vestments, Cas," Sam said with an awkward cough, trying, more than anything else, to break up the awkward eye-fucking that was going on in front of him.

"Thank you, Sam," said Cas, narrowed blue eyes still concentrated on Dean as he reached out and straightened the hunter's skewed collar. “Your priestly attire appears to be relatively accurate as well.”

Sam's brow furrowed as he watched his brother's face flush a bright red and his tongue sneak out to repeatedly lick his lips, a classic tell of Dean's nervousness. Angel or not, Sam was still impressed that Castiel was able to render his brother's big mouth speechless.

"Okay, so, awkward," Sam breathed. "Um, Cas, is there anything you can tell us about this place? Do you feel anything out of the ordinary?"

Cas hesitated before finally turning his gaze toward Sam. “This…” his voice trailed off, “Is not a house of the Lord. It has not been such for some time. I can sense that there is some maleficent force at work here, but it is all very muddled. I can only infer that there is something in place that is preventing my cognition."

The brothers looked at each other warily for a moment before Dean nodded his head and broke the silence. “Alright, I guess it's time to go inside. Shaggy, you head around back to the library. I’m gonna take Velma and go check out the sanctuary.”

“Seriously? Why the hell am I shaggy?” Sam said with a bitchface.

“Dude. Come on,” was all Dean said, eyes rolling up as Sam brushed a long brown lock behind his ear.

“Yeah, and I'm so sure you're Fred,” Sam huffed. 

“Screw that shit. No way I’m that tight ass goody-goody. I’m sexy as hell, which makes me Daphne," Dean smirked. "Now, if you don’t mind, me and Velma here are gonna go have a lesbian adventure.”

"I do not understand what is transpiring here," an irritated Castiel announced with his usual head tilt. "I am currently in the guise of a bishop and while I have not specified a moniker, I am fairly certain that I would not have chosen to be called Velma."

"You are totally Velma," Sam and Dean said in unison.

~ ~ ~

Sister Evelyn knocked sharply on the door to Deacon Callahan’s private office.

“Enter,” drawled the voice from within. 

“Sir, the Winchesters and the angel have arrived.”

The man in black swirled around in his chair to face the nun with a sly smile. “Excellent! Right on time. They are nothing if not predictable. Thank you, sister, that will be all.”

“Party time, lads,” she heard him murmur as she shut the door.

~ ~ ~

The building was disturbingly quiet as Sam entered the rear foyer. There had been no sign of anyone since he and Dean had entered the church grounds, which only stood to make him more cautious. Satisfied that he was alone for the time being, Sam headed down the corridor toward the library on the west side of the building. 

Thankful to have made his way to the library without attracting any unwanted attention, Sam pushed open the heavy, dark oak doors and was immediately met by a white-haired priest who gave him a lascivious smile and brought a pale hand up to stroke Sam’s face. Sam did his best to suppress a full-body shudder, giving the man the briefest of polite smiles, lowering his head and pushing his way into the room and away from the disturbingly gentle hand.

The library in itself wasn't particularly large or ornate. Two long walls, lined from floor to ceiling with shelves of meticulously arranged books, ran the length of the room, which had more the feel of a hallway. No paintings adorned the walls. The only touch of opulence was the gilded, arched ceiling that stood in direct contrast to the plain, dark wood of the shelving.

There were no chairs, only two large reference tables that were spaced lengthwise down the center of the room. A dozen or so men in various stages of undress had surrounded the farther of the two tables. As Sam moved deeper into the room, eyes scanning the tomes on the shelves for any sign of something amiss, he could hear the sounds of skin against skin, muffled moans and obscene slurping. As he got closer, he could see the focus of the men's attention. Two young nuns in nothing but their veils were writhing in a filthy 69 atop the table. Sam tried to keep his focus on the room, but his eyes kept returning to the women, hungry, wet mouths buried between soft, pale thighs. The men around them were stroking themselves, almost in unison. Some even reaching out to stroke the man to their side. 

Sam took a deep breath, shook his head and tried to focus on his mission. He had made his way to the back wall of the library and found nothing out of the ordinary. The room had no windows and no alternate entrance. He quietly crept behind the gathering that had moved even closer to the table. Instinct told him that he needed to move on, that there was nothing left for him to investigate in the room, but as he cleared the small crowd he couldn't help but turn for another look. 

The nuns had moved so that they were sitting up, facing each other. Their legs were scissored, grinding crudely against each other. Sam felt his mouth go dry and he was frozen in place, unable to take his eyes off of the women. Suddenly, one of the men in the crowd came with a shout, breaking Sam's reverie and he moved quickly to the doorway, grateful that the priest he had encountered earlier was nowhere in sight.

~ ~ ~

Sam dutifully checked out all of the rooms that he passed on his way up to the sanctuary, most of them small offices or prayer rooms, none of which held any clues as to the source of the troubles. The last room that he encountered before reaching the main hall to the sanctuary was the church’s baptistry. He cracked opened the door and took a cursory look inside. The room appeared to be a smaller sanctuary with two rows of pews and in the center a two-tiered marble baptismal. Now, Sam hadn't been to a lot of baptisms in his life, but he was fairly certain that the water should not be glowing. 

He entered the room and approached the basin cautiously, still expecting someone or something to slide out of the shadows at any moment. He placed his hands on the wide marble rim of the lower tier and peered over the side to get a closer look. At the bottom of the shallow pool he could see what looked like a large, porous black rock giving off a soft purple glow. The water itself was rolling and bubbling, almost as if it were boiling; yet there was no accompanying heat that Sam could feel. Whatever this rock was, it seemed to be reacting with the water to form some type of vapor that dispersed in the air. 

Perfect, Sam thought. An airborne sexual deviance virus caused by some kind of demon/space/witch rock in a baptismal pool. Just another Thursday in the life of the Winchesters. 

Sam looked around for something he could use to extricate the rock, but there was nothing in the small sanctuary save for the pews and some potted plants. Of course not. Grimacing, Sam pushed up the sleeve of his black jacket and shirt and held his hand tentatively above the water. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to plunge his hand into the pool but before his fingers could break the surface, a hand formed from the water itself and reached out to him.

The fluid extremity had the same ethereal purple glow as it reached up to cup the side of Sam's face. It felt like a warm caress and Sam unconsciously began to relax into it, until the hand was suddenly clutching his throat and lifting him off of his feet. 

Sam tried to grab at the fingers that were crushing his windpipe, but his hands went right through the water to his own skin. His feet were now dangling more than a foot off the floor and he could feel darkness starting to descend on him from the lack of oxygen.

The only thing Sam could see that was within reach was the fountain that made up the top tier of the baptismal. Grunting with effort, he began to swing the lower half of his body until he felt his feet connect with the edge of the fountain. He began to push off of the fountain then use the momentum to swing back and kick at it again. On the third swing and kick he felt the fountain move. Knowing that he was on the verge of passing out, Sam gave one more rough push and swung back; kicking his legs with all the energy he had left.

There was a loud crash as the fountain toppled into the lower pool, landing dead center, shattering the black rock. The hand around Sam’s neck instantly dissolved back into the pool and he dropped roughly to the floor. Sam pushed himself to his feet and looked back into the baptismal. While the rock had shattered, the pieces were still glowing and suddenly Sam saw dozens of smaller hands forming from within the water and reaching out toward him.

Sam turned, slipping briefly on the water that had splashed out of the pool, before righting himself and running for the exit. He hurled his shoulder at the door and stumbled out into the hallway, chest heaving as he gasped for air. The only thing that kept him from hitting the floor was a pair of strong hands gripping his shoulders and halting his momentum. Adrenaline pumping through his body, Sam had already grabbed the knife from where it was tucked behind his back, instantly ready to fight, but something in him stilled as he regarded the deacon in the white robe in front of him.

The man was probably in his late 40’s. Soft, calming brown eyes, dark brown hair with just a touch of silver and a thick, but neatly trimmed matching beard. His hands remained firmly clamped onto Sam’s shoulders. Sam couldn't help but wonder what that thick beard would feel like scratching the sensitive skin of his inner thigh and he felt his cock give an interested twitch. 

The hands trailed down his arms and squeezed his biceps, pulling him in even closer. Sam licked his lips and felt himself leaning in to the man’s grasp. Just as their mouths were about meet, the deacon grabbed Sam firmly by the jaw, and turned his head to the side, lips brushing the smooth skin of Sam’s cheek. 

“I think,” he whispered into Sam’s ear, “there is somewhere you need to be, my son.” The man was clearly struggling with himself as his hands continued to squeeze Sam’s biceps and simultaneously tried to push him away.

Sam felt like he was losing the battle himself, looking darkly at the holy man in front of him, wanting nothing more than to grab him by the back of the head and fuck his tongue deep into his mouth. 

He took a step towards the deacon, trying to close the space between them, but before he could reach out, the man shoved him away, roughly. 

“Samuel! You must leave me. Go find your brother. Now!” The deacon dropped to his knees and Sam could hear him sobbing, hands fisting into his hair as he rocked back and forth on the ground.

The strange compulsion that Sam had been experiencing was broken and he jolted back to the reality that he needed to find Dan and Cas to tell them that he found the source of the troubles. He turned back briefly to look at the deacon, who now seemed to be pounding his head against the floor, before turning and running for the sanctuary.

~ ~ ~

The first thing Sam noticed when he entered the sanctuary was the darkness. It was heavy and oppressive, the only light coming from tall candelabras strategically placed throughout the room. Movement from high up on the walls caught his eye and his gaze immediately went up to the large stained glass windows. Gone were the typical biblical depictions, rather the rich, jewel colors depicted acts straight from the Kama Sutra. The longer he stared, it seemed like the images in the glass were moving, couples rocking into each other from all possible angles. 

Sam walked cautiously down the left aisle of the sanctuary, keeping his back to the wall. The candles were casting ominous images about the walls and Sam swore that he could feel hands on his body.

As he moved deeper into the room he saw in the center aisle a nun, habit pulled up to her waist, straddling one priest while a second was thrusting into her roughly from behind. Palming himself through the black woolen pants that suddenly felt two sizes too small, Sam had all but forgotten why he entered the sanctuary in the first place until he heard strains of Castiel's gravely voice coming from the front of the room.

In the center of the raised stage was a large bishop's chair, ornately carved from a thick dark wood with a blood red velvet cushion. Dean sat sprawled, still in his priest outfit, hips pushed forward, legs spread wide.

Planted firmly on his brother’s lap was Castiel. His pants were long gone, bishop’s robe hitched up, hands braced firmly on the back of the chair as he rode Dean furiously, chanting what Sam recognized as a prayer in Latin. He watched as his brother's hard length speared into the pale white flesh of the angel's ass. Sam’s face burned red as he glanced up to see Dean staring right at him with a devilish smirk. 

Without ever breaking the stare, Dean’s strong hands grasped Cas behind his knees and stood, lifting the angel with him. Cas’ arms held tightly around Dean’s neck, lifting and lowering, impaling himself onto Dean’s cock as he walked them toward the altar.

Dean lowered Cas so that he was lying flat on his back across the short side of the altar and pulled the angel’s legs up until his ankles were around Dean's neck, his head thrown back, hanging off the other side. Sam could hear Cas moaning, “Dean,” and “please,” and “more” as his brother thrust deeply inside of him.

Sam couldn’t take his eyes off the two of them. He felt like he was being physically drawn toward them and couldn’t stop even if he had wanted to, which he really didn't. He climbed the three short steps to the altar, standing opposite from Dean. He couldn’t help but run his hand along Cas’ stubbled jaw. He brushed his thumb across the angel’s lips gently before pushing it into his mouth. That was all it took before Cas began to suck and bite at the digit, moaning like a whore, so deep that Sam could feel it along his spine.

Sam pulled his thumb out of Castiel’s mouth and the angel fucking whined, arching his back even more, sticking out his tongue, moaning for Sam. Any shred of control that Sam was hanging onto was lost in that minute. He quickly unzipped his fly and pulled himself out, stroking his cock hard and wet over Castiel’s face. He dragged the head along the angel’s cheeks and lips, smiling at the wet trail it left behind.

Sam fed his dick into Castiel’s begging mouth and, goddamn, if the angel did not have a gag reflex, taking Sam’s entire length deep into his throat on the first try.

“Shit,” Sam breathed, reverently. He started to thrust into Cas’ mouth, tentatively at first, but once he saw that not only was he not hurting him, but that the angel was apparently trying to swallow him whole, he began to pump his hips in earnest, balls slapping obscenely against the angel’s face.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean groaned. “I can see your dick moving in his throat.” Both brothers watched, mesmerized, at the sight of Cas’ throat contracting and expanding with the motion of Sam’s cock.

Dean’s thrusts became brutal as he dug his fingers into the angel’s thighs, each one driving the angel’s mouth deeper around Sam’s cock. Dean leaned forward, practically bending Cas in half, burying his hand in Sam’s long hair, pulling him into a fierce kiss. Tongues and teeth battled for control as they moaned into each other’s mouths.

Cas groaned beneath them and tried to fist his own straining cock to get some relief, but as soon as Dean noticed, he broke the kiss with Sam and batted the angel’s hand away. Sam grabbed both of Castiel’s wrists and pulled his arms back until they were tucked firmly between Sam’s thighs.

The sound that Cas made around Sam’s cock was nothing short of pitiful. Dean smiled and let go of one of Castiel’s thighs, bringing his hand up to his own mouth. He licked a wide, wet stripe across his palm before reaching down to take the angel in his hand. He began to squeeze and twist, jacking Castiel off like a pro as he continued to fuck deep inside him.

Sam snapped his head back with a groan as he felt Castiel’s throat constrict around his cock. He looked back up to find Dean staring at him with pure lust in his eyes. With a slight jerk of his head, Dean motioned down to where he was fisting Castiel. Sam didn’t need any more direction, bending his tall frame over Castiel’s prone body he began to lick at the head of the angel’s cock over the top of Dean’s stroking hand. Dean moaned at the touch of Sam’s tongue as it slipped between his fingers. He let go of Cas’ other thigh and grabbed a handful of his brother’s hair, pulling sharply, just the way he knew Sam liked it, before pushing his brother’s mouth further down onto Cas.

Castiel’s muffled moans grew louder and his body started to jerk erratically. Sam knew he wouldn’t last much longer, reluctantly pulling his mouth from the angel’s cock and giving his full attention back to thrusting down his throat.

“Shit, Dean,” Sam moaned. “I’m close…”

“Yeah, come on Sammy,” Dean said, roughly. “Do it for me. I wanna see you paint up this pretty angel.” At that, Castiel’s body froze beneath them as he started to come violently in Dean’s hand. Dean pumped him roughly through his orgasm, spraying the front of his black robe with pearly drops of come.

That was all it took for Sam to follow, pulling his dick out of Cas’ mouth just as Dean pulled out of his ass, both brothers stroking themselves furiously, shooting long ropes of come until the angel’s torso was covered.

~ ~ ~

None of them noticed the groan that came from the balcony as the figure in black came along with the brothers. He pushed the young priest kneeling at his feet off of his cock and tucked himself back into his pants and straightened his tie and jacket.

“Sir,” said the priest, hesitantly, “The stimulus will be wearing off soon now that the mass has been shattered. Should I send some of the men to subdue the Winchesters?”

“Leave them,” said Crowley, smugly. “They have served my purpose…for the time being.”


End file.
